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Rin had felt it calling to him the night before, but hadn't made it avross the city to the train station in enough time to catch it before the sense of something huge and demonic had drifted out of his sixth sense. The night after, he'd been waiting for it, and watched it from a distance long enough to start putting shit together. It was a ghost train.
A type of possession that affects a whole vehicle, a spectral thing that only appears under certain conditions. The stories were slightly different, depending on where in the world they'd come from, but standard trains were most common back in Japan, so he had a clue. He'd fought a thing like it, once or twice, as an Ex-wire.
On the third night, he abandons everything else on his schedule for the time being, moving across the city in the dark of night with his sword strapped to his back and his True Cross uniform on. He may as well look the part, if he's going to try to exorcise the thing himself. The streets are wet when he gets to the station, the black unusually thick and heavy with the clouds in the sky swallowing up the October moon. In the chill, his hot breath comes swirling around his face like a worked horse's, cutting an unfriendly picture of him, eyes bright as he waits in the sulpherous yellow of the streetlights. If it keeps people from lurking, all the better. He'll look as threatening as he can.
There are people on the ghost train. He saw them, the same ones, every night, weird and dim through the glass windows with their fog. Their faces expressionless and indistinct. Twisted up memories of people stamped on reality. Ghosts. He knows that's what they are in there.
And tonight, at 11:11, he's going to save all of them, no matter what.
A type of possession that affects a whole vehicle, a spectral thing that only appears under certain conditions. The stories were slightly different, depending on where in the world they'd come from, but standard trains were most common back in Japan, so he had a clue. He'd fought a thing like it, once or twice, as an Ex-wire.
On the third night, he abandons everything else on his schedule for the time being, moving across the city in the dark of night with his sword strapped to his back and his True Cross uniform on. He may as well look the part, if he's going to try to exorcise the thing himself. The streets are wet when he gets to the station, the black unusually thick and heavy with the clouds in the sky swallowing up the October moon. In the chill, his hot breath comes swirling around his face like a worked horse's, cutting an unfriendly picture of him, eyes bright as he waits in the sulpherous yellow of the streetlights. If it keeps people from lurking, all the better. He'll look as threatening as he can.
There are people on the ghost train. He saw them, the same ones, every night, weird and dim through the glass windows with their fog. Their faces expressionless and indistinct. Twisted up memories of people stamped on reality. Ghosts. He knows that's what they are in there.
And tonight, at 11:11, he's going to save all of them, no matter what.
